Let's Dance On
by Comickazi13
Summary: Mary is a Cinderella of the 60s. She works for her caretaker and her two twin daughters. When she is asked to go to a Monkees' concert as a chaperone and happens to meet the boys, will her life take a turn for the better or for the worse?
1. Chapter 1

"When you're done washing the car," Mrs. Sherman told me, "I want you to clean out the garage." I scratched at my neck where my rash was beginning to bloom again.

"But…" I started. I was going to protest, saying that there was lots of dust in the garage and it would start making my rash act up, but there was no stopping Mrs. Sherman once she got on a rampage.

"Mary Kathrin," Mrs. Sherman said in a warning tone. "Do as you're told." I sighed and nodded.

"Yes, Mrs. Sherman," I shrugged. I reached up to my collar-bone and scratched roughly until the skin turned bright red. Something about the perfume this woman wore made my rash act up more than ever.

After my mother and father died in a mysterious fire in Los Angeles, I was sent to live with my closest relatives. And when I say "closest," I mean they lived in Hollywood. I was pretty much not even related to the Sherman family. I watched as Mrs. Sherman and her 50's style clothes strutted back into the little suburban home.

The sun was blazing hot. I wished I could be where any other normal teenager would be in the summer of 1967: the beach. Truthfully, I was on the verge of maturity (meaning I was nineteen), but I was still kept at the house, working.

"Hey, Mary!" shouted two familiar voices. I turned around to see Nina and Lena Sherman bouncing toward me. They wore matching outfits: white, knee-length skirts with candy-cane print tops; simple, white saddle shoes with red bobby-socks underneath; and bright red ribbons holding up their double ponytails.

"Nina, Lena," I greeted the Sherman twins individually. I went back to scrubbing the light blue 1955 Ford Mercury. Everything about this family was old fashioned. Their clothes, their car, their house. Everything. It was very annoying at times.

I was the only one who wasn't still stuck in the 50's. No. My clothes were more in the…mid-30's style. Every time I would look at the Sherman twins' outfits, _I_ would be _jealous_. Take, for instance, what I was wearing on this particular day: simple, gray, mid-calf length skirt with a button-up top of the same color with elbow-length sleeves; simple, black flats; and my hair tied up in a single ponytail. I looked very plain, to be honest. I never was incredibly pretty.

"Whatcha doin'?" Nina asked, leaning over my work. I was tempted to throw the sponge at her, but I kept my temper.

"Washing the car," I muttered.

"How's your RASH?" Lena questioned loudly enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.

"It's fine," I answered quietly, not looking up from my pail of soapy water. I scratched my collar-bone roughly and the twins giggled evilly. For eighteen-year-olds, the Sherman twins sure didn't act it. They were barely mature enough to pass for five-years-old…especially in the clothes they were wearing _now_.

"Are you SURE?" Nina shouted. "Because we could go pick up some of your OINTMENT for you!"

"Because that's what family does," Lena sniggered. "They help each other with problems: MEDICAL or MENTAL!"

"I'm trying to concentrate," I mumbled, running the sponge over the car.

"We should stop bothering her, Lena," Nina sneered. "She's just smart enough to think about ONE THING AT A TIME!" That was it. I stood quickly and held up my fist.

"There's a train leaving in fifteen minutes," I growled. "Why don't you be _under_ it?" Nina and Lena chuckled, but didn't move. I lurched toward them and they squealed, running away as fast as their immature legs could carry them. I smirked, happy with myself, then went back to cleaning the car.

Man! The sun was hot! Sweat formed on my forehead like I had dumped the bucket of water over my head. I wiped it away with the back of my hand and let out my held breath. Looking at the soapy water in the pail, I was tempted to plunge my face into it and cool off, but I would get into trouble and it would burn my eyes. Who knows? With all my knowledge, car soap could make my rash spread like a bad case of the bubonic plague.

"Help," I rasped. "Water. Thirsty." I was practically falling down from thirst. I stood up from the car and walked over to the house, opening the door.

"Are you done washing the car?" Mrs. Sherman pressed. I shook my head. "Then why are you in my house?"

"Water, please?" I begged. Mrs. Sherman rolled her eyes.

"Teenagers today are so lazy," she muttered under her breath as she got me a glass of water. When she handed it to me, I slurped it up like a fish. "And their manners are atrocious," she added quietly. I finished the water and handed the glass back to Mrs. Sherman. She took it, holding it between her thumb and forefinger before clinking it in the stainless sink.

"Thank you," I smiled. I scratched my collar-bone.

"Get out before that rash spreads," Mrs. Sherman ordered.

I shrugged and walked back out into the blazing sun. Immediately, sweat began beading on my forehead, but I had more work to do. I kneeled down beside the Mercury and started washing again.

(-)(-)(-)

"Organize the gardening tools. Make sure you sharpen the ones that have dulled over the season," Mrs. Sherman instructed me. "Then, put out the tarps, dust around the shelves, and get those clumps of dust in the corners. When you're done, you can come in for supper."

My rash itched like crazy. I scratched it roughly as I nodded my head in understanding. Mrs. Sherman looked disgusted (as she always did when my rash started to act up), but turned around and flounced back into the air-conditioned house.

"Well," I sighed, attempting to make the best of things, "at least I'm inside." I started to go through the armory of shovels, rakes, and other sharp, pointy objects used to put things in the ground.

I worked for a long while, sorting and sharpening tools and hating my situation. I wondered if any of the tools were sharp enough to kill a person. Not that I was planning on killing the Sherman family _or_ myself. I was just wondering…

"Fork…trowel…pick," I sighed as I placed the last three tools in their correct places. I sighed before picking up a dust cloth and beginning to dust around the shelves and walls of the garage.

My nose tickled. But that wasn't the worst of it. I _knew_ that my rash would act up when in contact with almost fifty pounds of dust. I scratched my collar-bone so hard that it began to bleed.

"Crap!" I cursed looking at my fingertips. "When did my fingernails get so sharp?"

I pressed my thumb to my rash and pulled it away to see blood. I groaned, wiping it off on my skirt. Screw it if Mrs. Sherman got mad about me dirtying my clothes.

I quickly plucked the dusty clumps from the corners, threw them away, and hurried inside. Mrs. Sherman and the Sherman twins were praying by the table.

"Good," I muttered. "Just in time for dinner." Mrs. Sherman glared up at me.

"Ahem," she sneered, clearing her throat. "We're saying grace?" She said this as if I was an idiot for not knowing her insanely religious ways. I nodded, pressing my finger to my lips. "There's some food for you on the counter. You can eat it in your room if you don't make a mess."

"Pig," Lena snorted under her breath. Nina giggled and Mrs. Sherman threw them a look, but didn't protest. I took my plate from the counter and headed to the back room.

My room had a terrific view…of the brick wall that separated the neighbor's yard from ours. It was all "white-picket-fences" in the front, but the back wall was solid and sturdy. The walls of my room were an ugly shade of off-white and the carpet was gray with many brown stains on it from previous spills (thanks to the Sherman twins). There was a single bulb hanging from the ceiling from a strand of wire and when the Sherman twins had a slumber party, it would wiggle around as they had pillow fights and danced to music. My bed was an old spring-bed and it sagged in the middle, making it almost impossible to sleep on. A small desk and chair in the corner served as my soul entertainment…That is, if I ever got time for entertainment in the first place.

But right now, this desk served as my dining table. I sat my plate down and slid into the splintery chair. My dress caught a little and I had to pull the snag out or it would rip apart. I leaned over my plate and took bite after bite of the one-star food. I knew that out in the real dining room, the Sherman family was enjoying at least a four-star meal, but I was pretty much "The Help," and therefore, I did not get amazingly good food. After dinner, I took my plate to the kitchen to be greeted with Mrs. Sherman's angry face.

"You spilled, didn't you?" she growled.

"No," I told her. Her perfume wafted over to me and hit my skin. I began scratching at it, pulling the collar of my dress to reveal my bloody, scabby rash. Mrs. Sherman's face grew scared.

"Dear lord, Mary Kathrin!" she exclaimed tugging on my hand. "What did you do to yourself?"

"My rash was itching," I mumbled under my breath so the Sherman twins couldn't hear. "My nails were too long, I guess."

"You'll get my furniture all bloody," Mrs. Sherman rolled her eyes. I should have known that her furniture was more important than my welfare. I grabbed a paper napkin from the counter and held it to the bleeding spot.

"I'm tired," I sighed. "I think I'll get to bed."

Mrs. Sherman turned away from me as if to say, "Like I care about anything you do or say, Mary." I shrugged off this thought and headed back to my bedroom.

I changed from my gray dress (which now had bloodstains on it) to my plain, white nightgown. Tucking my hair up in a nightcap, I slid into my horribly uncomfortable bed, sinking into it until that same spring poked right in between my shoulder-blades. I tossed and turned until I finally fell asleep.

(-)(-)(-)

The next morning, I woke up to frantic screaming above me. _Fan_ screaming, to be more specific. It sounded like the Sherman twins just heard something extremely exciting on the radio. Surprise, surprise. I swung my feet to the floor and quickly changed into a similar dress to the one I had been wearing the day before: modest collar line, mid-calf length skirt, boring shoes, hair tied up in a single ponytail.

"WHOOOOOOOOOO!" the twins sang out. I climbed the stairs to their room and mashed my ear up against the door. I'd probably get in trouble if any member of the Sherman family caught me, but I really wanted to know what was going on.

_"Yes, you heard me right, folks!"_ the announcer was shouting excitedly. _"The Monkees you know and love are going to be playing in Hollywood this weekend! So save your voice, 'cause you're gonna want it to scream at that concert! And now, a Monkee song!"_

"EEEEEK!" Nina's voice shrieked in excitement. "The Monkees are coming _here_?!"

"I can't believe it!" Lena's voice rejoiced. "We _have_ to go see them play!"

"Davy is sooooooooo cute!" Nina exclaimed. I heard her dancing around the room and landing on her bed.

"Yeah," Lena agreed, swooning. I listened in on the music for a moment. It was pretty good for rock-n-roll.

For a few minutes, I totally forgot that what I was doing was incredibly against the rules in the Sherman household. I didn't remember this fact until I felt someone tap my shoulder.

"Mary Kathrin," Mrs. Sherman scolded, "I am surprised at you. Eavesdropping on my poor, innocent little girls? Shameful!" I looked at the floor.

"Sorry, Mrs. Sherman," I muttered. I walked back downstairs and went back to my room, shutting myself away until I was needed for any heavy, back-breaking work. I always told myself that I wasn't a pack mule, but it was hard to believe after a while.

"MOTHER!" two voices shouted simultaneously followed by pattering footsteps above me.

"Children," Mrs. Sherman laughed, "don't shout indoors. What is it?"

"The Monkees are coming to play a concert this weekend," Nina explained.

"Can we go?" Lena asked.

"Please?!" the begged together. Mrs. Sherman sounded like her happy attitude was erased like a blackboard.

"The Monkees?" she asked incredulously. "You mean that band of long-haired weirdoes who play loud, obnoxious rock-n-roll music? Oh my dears, you don't want to go see _them_, do you?"

"Please, Mother?" Lena pleaded.

"It would mean ever so much to us," Nina cried. Mrs. Sherman thought for a long while.

"Only if there is a responsible chaperone," she finally announced. The twins gave an audible groan.

"Who'll guarantee a boring time at a _Monkees_ concert?" Nina whined. There was silence before the twins and their mother ran down the stairs and my door burst open.

"Heeeeeeeeyyyyy," Lena smiled as she came into my room. "Mary! You wouldn't happen to want to come to a concert with us, would you?" I knew that if I said yes I would be guaranteed not to go. But, I kind of wanted to see this band. So, I decided to give in.

"No," I grimaced. "Who'd want to go to a concert when they could be cleaning the house?" Ooh was I sneaky or what?

"Oh come on!" Nina begged. "P-P-Pl…" Her voice trailed off. Lena looked at her sister, surprised. Mrs. Sherman looked rather taken aback as well.

"What was that?" I asked, cradling my hand to my ear.

"P-Please come with us?" Nina groaned. I grinned.

"Well, okay then," I sighed. Lena and Nina smiled widely and hugged each other. "But if I get behind on my work, I'm gonna get upset," I warned. Mrs. Sherman looked rather surprised, but shrugged it off and started to get breakfast ready.

(-)(-)(-)

"Mary!" Lena shouted thrusting her smelly track shoes at me. "Clean these up."

"Is that any way to talk to your chaperone?" I questioned. "You know, I might just not go to this stinking concert if you treat me that way." Lena's eyes shone with fear. She quickly picked up her track shoes smiled at me.

"On second thought," she laughed nervously, "why don't I do something around here for a change?" She ran out of the room and I leaned back on the floor. It felt really nice to relax for a change…even if it was just in my bedroom on the stained carpet.

"Mary!" Nina exclaimed. "I need to have my dress for the concert ironed!"

"The concert is three days away," I pointed out.

"Do it _now_, you lazy slob!" Nina screamed. I looked at her, my eyes opening wide in fake surprise.

"My, my, my," I breathed. "Such a temper. You'd better watch your P's and Q's or I might not take you to this concert." Nina shrunk back.

"Um…Heh, heh, heh," she said, panic in her eyes. "Forget it. Just iron it when you're ready…Please." Nina scurried out of the room like a frightened little mouse.

I leaned back on my floor and fell into a comfortable sleep. The last thing I remembered thinking was, "Ahh. Milking it is sooooo worth it. I could definitely get used to _this_ kind of treatment!"


	2. Chapter 2

The night of the concert was filled with excitement. Nina and Lena spent a good three hours just getting dressed for the occasion. I could only have guessed that the Sherman twins were planning on dressing exactly alike. It was really hard to tell the difference between the two of them if you didn't live with them.

They both had mouse-brown hair with bright, inquisitive blue eyes. They were both 5'2" and had the same giggly, quite annoying voice. Their complexions were exactly alike: slightly tanned with very rosy cheeks. There was only one difference between the identical twins: Lena had a tiny, almost unnoticeable freckle on her left temple. However, this was often covered up by the bangs they both possessed for a hairstyle.

Anyway, I'm getting off-track. I waited for them to come out so I could see how I should dress for this. The twins said I should just dress the way I always did, but I could tell this wasn't supposed to be a compliment.

They both came out in matching, orange, sleeveless dresses. The skirts came down to about their knees and puffed out slightly. I looked to their feet to see a pair of orange and yellow, 2 inch heeled pumps on each twin. Their hair was hanging down around their shoulders, flipped out a little bit, and their bangs were all curled into their foreheads. They each wore a bright orange, plastic hair-band in their hair.

"Ewww," Lena and Nina exclaimed together as they saw my outfit. I was pretty much going by their advice in the first place: wearing what I normally wore. But obviously, that wasn't going to cut it.

"We have some work to do," Lena sighed.

"Yeah," Nina agreed. "We don't want you to embarrass us at the concert."

"I hate to say this," Lena grimaced, "but, come into our room. We'll fix you up right."

I shrugged and followed the two eighteen-year-olds into their room. It was sad, really, that they still shared a room in their mother's house when they really should have moved out months ago. I could've moved out, but I didn't really have anywhere else to go. So with the Sherman family I stayed.

"Now," Nina said quietly, almost to herself. "You need something fun, yet not too fun."

"We don't want you overshadowing us," Lena explained.

"I'm not stupid," I muttered. I looked around at the walls of the room. I'd never seen anything like it. Floor to ceiling, there were pictures of a boy with half-cheek length, brown hair; rather bushy eyebrows; and a cute smile. Some of these posters had "DAVY JONES" written down the side, bottom, or top. It looked like a cult shrine in my opinion. But I kept that to myself.

"This'll look good," Nina shouted. She held up a white colored mini-dress with small, ivory daisies all over it. It had spaghetti-strap type sleeves and the bottom of the dress came only about to my mid-thigh. But the feature that really grabbed my attention was the neckline. It plunged about 2 ½ inches from my collar bone, fully exposing my affected skin.

"A-Are you sure?" I stuttered. Lena looked at me strangely before throwing a pair of white 2 inch pumps at me.

"Positive," she shrugged. "You'll look good…but not _too_ good."

"Okay." I sighed in resignation, changed, and slipped the pumps on my feet.

"Ready to go?" Mrs. Sherman asked, popping her head into the room. Lena and Nina looked at her in excitement.

"YES!" they exclaimed together. They looked at me, obviously expecting me to do something.

"Um…whee?" I tried. Lena and Nina rolled their eyes and Lena grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the room. Nina followed quickly behind. Lena let go of me and pushed me into the driver's seat of the 1955 Mercury and shut the door behind me.

"Drive," Lena commanded. I gave her the look, but she rolled her eyes.

"Please," Nina added. I shrugged as Lena climbed into the backseat with Nina.

"We need to have a chaperone," Lena explained. "But we also have to have a chauffeur." I grimaced, but turned the key in the ignition. The engine rumbled into life. I backed down the driveway and into the street before shuttling away to the concert.

(-)(-)(-)

The screaming was deafening! I could barely stand it! I pressed my hands to my ears and looked over at the twins. They were screaming almost as loudly as the whole crowd combined. Lena was jumping up and down, flailing her hair all around. Nina was being even more of a spaz than Lena was. The band played a few sets and when they finished, we started to leave.

_"Hey, don't leave yet!"_ exclaimed a man over the intercom. _"Check your seats! If you have the right seat numbers, you have free backstage passes! C'mon back to meet the band! The winning numbers are 143, 144, and 145!"_ There was an audible groan from many girls in the stadium. I looked down at my seat number.

"Hey," I muttered to Lena. "I got seat 145." Lena quickly relayed the news to Nina and they checked their own seat numbers. To my astonishment, we had the winning seats!

"WE WON!" the twins shouted together. They grabbed each other's shoulders and bounced up and down.

"We get to meet the band!" Lena shouted to the nearest guard. "We have the winning seats!" The guard looked at our tickets, nodded, and led us back to a stage door.

Lena and Nina were giggling like school girls. I could barely stand their high pitch. It was giving me a migraine. I'm sure this wasn't helped by the fact that I was nervous. The guard handed us our backstage passes and the girls giggled again. I held my hand up to my head.

"Must you be so giggly?" I asked. The twins looked at me with a slight look of disgust on their faces.

"Must you be such a wet blanket?" Lena sassed putting her hand on her hip. I rolled my eyes. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"I can't believe we're gonna meet the band," Nina giggled. She hooked one foot around the other and hopped up and down. I watched her for a minute before putting my hands on her shoulders and holding her to the ground.

"Stop," I said dryly. "I'm the chaperone. I'm here to guarantee a boring time, remember?" I was shot a look of distain from the twins before the security guard opened up the door and they zoomed inside. I walked calmly behind the guard, who was now franticly trying to keep the twins from touching everything.

"Look," the guard exclaimed, flustered, "if you don't stop touching everything, you won't be able to meet the boys!" The twins immediately stopped and stood behind me in a quiet, calm line. The guard smoothed down his hair before opening a huge white door which had a shiny star nailed to it. "Um…Fellas? The winners of the contest are here," he announced. There was shuffling from the inside and the guard let us in.

I immediately wished he_ hadn't_. The moment the twins set eyes on that Davy Jones, they let out a scream unknown to any planet in our solar system. I was pretty sure it wasn't even known to our galaxy. The bassist, Peter Tork, held his hands up to his ears and the guitarist, Mike Nesmith, winced a little. I quickly clamped my hands over the twins' mouths.

"Good thing they're not triplets, huh?" I laughed nervously. "I'm running out of hands." The drummer, Micky Dolenz's, eyes lit up as he recognized a joke. He laughed heartily until Mike clamped his own hand over Micky's mouth.

"Mick, it wasn't that funny," Mike explained. Micky blushed.

"Sorry," he muttered under his breath. Micky was kind of cute.

It took me a few minutes to figure out that I was still holding the twins and I quickly released them. They looked at me with daggers in their eyes until they caught sight of Davy again. They kept swooning into each other's arms, a feat I deemed impossible until I saw it. I rolled my eyes.

"Excuse them," I grimaced. "They're just pains in the neck. They've been bugging me all night with their ramblings about how totally amazing you guys are."

"And?" Micky pressed. "Aren't we as amazing as they say we are?" To be honest, I wasn't quite sure how to answer this. I decided to go with the truth.

"Well, to be completely truthful," I shrugged, "I prefer the Crooners. But, these babies needed a chaperone, so I had to tag along." I knew I was going to regret calling the twins babies, but they were so out of it I wasn't quite sure if they even heard me.

"A chaperone, huh?" Davy asked. This seemed to be the first time the twins noticed anything I said. Lena elbowed me in the ribs and Nina stepped on my foot.

"Owch!" I exclaimed. "Whaddya do that for?" They rolled their eyes and turned back to admire Davy some more. The boys laughed.

"Looks like you've got your hands full," Peter chuckled.

"Do I ever," I grimaced. "Can you believe they're actually eighteen?" Davy looked at the twins slightly evilly, which made them giggle uncontrollably. Mike looked like he was attempting not to throw up.

"Hard to believe," Mike grumbled. "Anyway, what're your names?" I'd never noticed Mike's thick, Texas accent before. It was way cool. I loved Texans! I used to hang around with them a lot when I lived in Los Angeles. (There were always surprising numbers of Texans in my neighborhood.)

"I'm Mary Caldwell," I introduced myself. When the twins failed to recuperate from Davy's slightly evil stare, I introduced them as well. "That's Lena Sherman and Nina Sherman…They're twins," I added after a moment.

"We gathered that," Micky grinned.

"How do you tell them apart?" Davy asked. The girls giggled again. I wanted to strangle them so badly, but I restrained my temper.

"Lena has a freckle on her temple," I shrugged. Davy walked over to Nina and scooped up her bangs. He looked all around her forehead and Nina looked as though she might die. When his search came up short, Davy moved over to Lena and did the same, actually finding the freckle.

"So you're Lena," Davy smirked. Lena blushed like a tomato with sunburn. Nina looked a little depressed, so Davy moved to flirt with her a little. I didn't really worry about them, so I continued making conversation.

"I hope you don't mind me asking," Peter pressed, "but why is your sisters' last name different from yours?"

"They're not my sisters," I laughed. "They're _incredibly_ distant relatives. My parents died when I was six years old, so I moved in with the Sherman family. Been there ever since."

"That's sad," Peter sniffed. Mike nodded his head.

"How old are you…just out of curiosity?" Mike asked.

"I'm nineteen," I shrugged. "I really should be in a place of my own, but I have an obligation."

"What do you mean?" Davy questioned.

"She works for our family," Lena answered. The room fell silent.

"With pay, I hope?" Micky tried.

"Psh!" Nina exclaimed. "She's so lazy she doesn't deserve to have a room to sleep in." I felt my life spiraling downward! NOOOOOO! What did I do to deserve this? I never wanted anyone to find out about this!

Micky stepped forward. He looked extremely interested in me. He reached out and touched my collar-bone.

"What's that?" he asked. I looked at where he was touching me.

"Nothing," I whispered. "It's nothing. Nothing at all."

"Just her rash," Lena sneered.

"Yeah," Nina agreed. "It acts up a lot."

I expected Micky to pull away, disgusted. But his hand stayed there, his cold fingertips just gracing the burning, hot skin on my collar-bone. It felt good, but wrong at the same time. I wanted to pull away and I was going to…but I got caught in his deep, dark eyes. I know it sounds cheesy as heck, but it's true.

"Your eyes suit you," Micky complimented. "I don't think I've ever seen brown eyes mixed with red hair before."

"Th-Thanks," I mumbled. It was all I could really think to say at this point in time. "I…I liked your drumming tonight?" I tested. Micky laughed. For a long time, it was like no one else existed. Finally, Micky broke the silence.

"Did it hurt?" he asked quietly.

"Did what hurt?" I returned.

"When you fell from Heaven," he said coolly. I blushed. Oh…my…gosh. He was hitting on me! I thought for a minute, but decided to go with it.

I giggled. That's right. I giggled like the twins did; only my pitch was lower so I didn't give anyone a massive headache. Micky winked at me and continued.

"Somebody better call God," he sighed to the other three boys. "He's missing an angel."

"Looks like Micky's _finally_ in love," Davy smirked.

"Good catch, Mick," Mike chuckled.

"Looks like that 'worthless little book' did you some good, eh, Micky?" Davy smirked.

"Cool it, man," Micky mumbled. Davy shrugged and went back to talking with the twins. "Want to step outside a minute?" Micky asked me.

"Okay," I said, slightly reluctantly. I was actually pretty good at playing this game. Micky took my arm and led me outside the dressing room. Then, we shot down some halls and onto the stage. By this time, there was no one there and the cold night air hit my face silently.

"Pretty out here, isn't it?" Micky sighed.

"Yeah," I agreed.

"It's so much better after the gig," he smiled to the sky. "No screaming. Just quiet all around. It can get pretty lonely out on the road while we're touring."

"Even with the guys around all the time?" I asked. Micky nodded. "What happens after you tour?"

"We usually sleep for two years," he chuckled. "Then we have to get up and start all over again." I laughed and looked at my shoes. "What was all that about you working for your own family?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"I…I just clean up a little, you know?" I was partially lying. I did clean up…but _way_ more than just a little.

"Mmhmm," Micky hummed. He looked at me, obviously knowing that I wasn't being completely honest. "Any reason why your relatives had you come here as a chaperone?" He looked at me almost accusingly.

"What? A girl can't just come to a concert to help out family?" I asked.

"No," Micky shook his head. "Not when she's not direct family. Are they treating you like a slave?"

"Look, I don't want to talk about it," I sighed. I had only known this guy for about ten minutes and he was already asking really personal questions? This wasn't good.

"Oh…Okay," Micky shrugged. I thought for a moment. This wasn't as bad as I thought. After all, he was letting me not talk about it. That was nice.

As these thoughts ran through my head, I didn't notice that Micky was edging closer and closer to me. When I finally noticed this, it was when Micky's hand wrapped around mine. I looked down to find that I couldn't tell whose fingers were whose. My hand relaxed along with the rest of my arm, shoulder, and neck. It was like I was melting. Was it in my imagination, or was I falling in love with Micky Dolenz?


	3. Chapter 3

I was nervous. No. I was beyond nervous. I was terrified. How was I supposed to tell Mrs. Sherman that I had left for five minutes, then come back to find _both_ twins making out with Davy Jones AT THE SAME TIME?! How was that even _possible_?! As I drove home, the girls were giggling about it. Whenever I would clear my throat, they would go dead silent, and then keep on chatting away about what a great kisser Davy was.

"Um…" I started. My voice cracked. "What do you say we keep that little incident to ourselves, yes?"

"What do you mean?" Lena asked. She already wore that sneer that told me if I told her why, she would instantly tell her mother.

"N-No reason," I chirped nervously. I gulped down the knot of fear in my throat as we neared the house. When I pulled into the driveway, the girls leapt out of the car and ran, giggling (of course) into the front door. I prayed that they would keep their yaps shut.

I climbed out of the car and felt the freezing air around my legs. I would have preferred a longer dress in retrospect. But this was a good one too. My heels clicked as I walked up the driveway and into the house. When there were no signs of either Mrs. Sherman or the twins, I fast-walked into the backroom and changed into my nightgown. Feeling safe, I drifted off into a reasonably comfortable sleep.

(-)(-)(-)

"MARY KATHRIN!" Mrs. Sherman's voice rang from the living room. I quickly bounded out of bed and into fresh clothes. It felt good to be back to the old routine…for now.

"Yes, Mrs. Sherman?" I panted as I scrambled into the living room. Mrs. Sherman turned to me with fire in her eyes. Uh-oh, this wasn't good. "Did I do something wrong, Mrs. Sherman?"

"Wrong?" she asked. "Wrong? No! Nothing is wrong! My baby girls just happened to passionately kiss a rock-n-roll singer! NO! NOTHING IS WRONG AT ALL!"

"Mrs. Sherman," I muttered, attempting to sound soothing, "you're overreacting. I…I hear Davy Jones is a…_fine_ boy." I tried not to laugh remembering Davy's constant flirting.

"All the same," Mrs. Sherman continued, "it was YOUR responsibility to keep the girls OUT OF HARM'S WAY! You've disappointed me, Mary Kathrin. Greatly disappointed me." I hung my head in shame. "And to even think about _you_ joining in on the little games too!" My head shot back up.

"What?" I asked. My jangled nerves were already on edge, but now they were practically hanging by one finger from a precipice thousands of feet above a turbid ocean.

"Nina and Lena told me that you and the drummer were getting pretty inappropriate as well," Mrs. Sherman huffed. Those dirty, rotten scamps! They told on me! Besides, I wasn't getting inappropriate. _He_ was flirting. There was a HUGE difference.

"I believe there's been a misunderstanding…" I started.

"I don't want to hear it!" Mrs. Sherman interrupted. "I don't want you coming out of that room except to collect your meals for the next month!" My mouth hung low in horror. She was _grounding_ me? Could she do that? Technically I still lived under her roof. But I was not a minor anymore. I gathered up all my courage.

"No," I muttered.

"What?" Mrs. Sherman growled.

"I said, 'No,'" I announced louder. "I'm done being your slave around here. I work my rear end off and all you can do is punish me all the time? I won't do this anymore."

"If you aren't going to live by my rules," Mrs. Sherman grumbled, "then you aren't going to live in my house."

"Fine," I shrugged. "I don't have to take this crap. I'm better than this. I'm moving out today!" I ran back to the backroom and slammed the door. The wire holding the light trembled.

Tears were streaming down my face as I looked around the room that had been my bedroom for thirteen years. The bed, the light, the rickety old table and chair all seemed like friends…friends I was leaving behind. But I had to do this. I was done living under Mrs. Sherman's cruel hand. I was moving out.

I yanked open the closet door and observed all the old fashioned clothes hanging up. I pulled them down and shoved them in that same suitcase that I had unpacked thirteen years ago. I remembered all the times that I had been yelled at during my childhood. I remembered the times that Mrs. Sherman slapped me for being "rude," or "ungrateful." I remembered all the slumber parties that I wasn't allowed to go to because I was no better than a servant. My childhood was wasted in this dump heap. And now I was leaving.

But where would I go? I had no family. I had no friends. WAIT! I _did_ have friends! The Monkees! My face lit up in a huge grin as I sat on the suitcase to get it shut all the way. They would most definitely take me in my time of need! They were my friends…weren't they? Maybe they only thought of me as a fan. Micky certainly didn't. He would help me. I knew it.

"You aren't serious about leaving are you?" Nina asked from my doorway. I turned to her, a scowl printed on my face.

"What do I have here?" I sulked. "A wasted childhood? A trunk of old, stale memories? I have nothing here, Nina. I _have_ to leave."

"But you've been like our sister," she protested.

"Some way of showing it," I scoffed.

"I…I just wanted to say I'm sorry," Nina sighed. "I don't know if I speak for Lena or Mother, but I speak for myself. I'm sorry that I had to go along with it. I just got caught up. I guess…putting you down made me feel better about myself." I nodded.

"Thanks, Nina," I shrugged, "but I'm still leaving." I scooped up my suitcase and walked past her, through the hallway, and into the living room. I waved goodbye to my old family and headed out the door to a new world.

(-)(-)(-)

_"Of course you can stay with us!"_ Micky exclaimed on the other end of the payphone. Nina had given me Davy's number (which was actually _all_ the guys' number because they lived together) and told me to call him up to get a place to stay. _"If there's a single guy here who would hate to have you with us, I'll be a monkey's uncle!"_ I laughed.

"Thanks, Micky," I sighed. "If I didn't know I had you to fall back on, I would never have left my relatives." There was an awkward pause on the other end.

_"Hey, Mary,"_ Micky said, _"Do…Do you want to go out sometime? Maybe catch a movie or something?"_ I smiled warmly.

"I'd love that." Micky let out a huge sigh of relief.

_"Man! That really gets that off my chest!"_ he exclaimed. I giggled a little bit.

"I'm glad you asked me," I smiled. "I was waiting for a long time."

_"Really?"_ Micky asked hopefully.

"You bet," I grinned. "I really like you, Micky." I paused for a moment before going on. "Do you remember the first time we met? At your concert? I was chaperoning the twins?"

_"Yeah,"_ Micky answered.

"Well," I continued, "when you took me outside and we were just standing on the stage? And you held my hand?"

_"Yes, I remember,"_ Micky sighed. _"One of the best moments in my life."_

"Um…It's kind of hard for me to say this because I don't know if you feel this way too, but…" My voice trailed off.

_"What are you saying, Mary?"_ Micky questioned. His voice was gentle and patient. I could tell he knew what I was going to say, but he wanted to hear me say it myself.

"I…I think I love you," I mumbled quietly. Micky fell silent for a moment.

_"Really?"_ he finally said.

"Yes," I confirmed. "I think I love you a lot." There was more silence.

_"You know something?"_ he asked. _"I think I love you a lot too."_


	4. Chapter 4

Before I even knew what was going on, I was living with the boys. In fact, I had been living with them for about two weeks, being with Micky the whole time. We had become _incredibly_ close in that time…especially me and my boyfriend.

Of course, I had to go with them on tour. We were supposed to leave for Boise, Idaho within the next couple of days and the boys wanted to get me some new clothes so I would blend in with their hip, groovy image.

"Why don't you try this on, Mary?" Davy asked. He held up a bright pink mini dress with long sleeves which looked lacy. The skirt had a lacy coat over the solid slip. The neckline was modest, which was unexpected compared to the necklines of the dresses Davy had suggested in the past. A small, hand-tied bow and draw-string joined the solid top and the lacy skirt. The very top of the collar had a tiny ruffle of lace going all around it.

"Davy, you have some kind of taste," I smiled. I took the dress and headed into the dressing room. When I came out, all the boys were assembled and when they saw me, their jaws dropped in unison. "Oh, come on," I laughed. "I can't look _that_ good."

"But you do," Micky grinned. He walked over to me and looked me up and down. "You look great and I'm _not_ just saying that."

"That one's most definitely a keeper," Mike agreed. I changed back into my normal clothes and tossed the dress into the cart along with the adorable strawberry printed, sleeveless mini dress and the plain yellow button-up dress.

"Now there's just one more thing left to get," Peter thought out loud. "You need some pajamas."

"But I like my pajamas," I protested.

"Well, then you can have two pairs of pajamas," Mike shrugged. "Either way, we're buying you some." I sighed in resignation and the boys led me off to the pajamas section of the clothing store.

"How 'bout these?" I asked as I held up some pajamas. They were flannel and had little stars and moons all over the long-sleeved top and baggy bottoms.

"How 'bout _these_?" Micky smirked evilly. He held up a silky, short nightie with a Chinese dragon swirling around the bottom edge. The nightie had spaghetti-thin straps and it probably came down to 3 inches above my knees. The neck line plunged down to approximately 3 ½ inches below my collar bone. I looked at Micky.

"Not in your dreams," I laughed. Micky cocked his head over to one side before tossing the silky nightie into the cart with my other clothes. He turned to grin at me. "You are basically diabolical, aren't you?" I sighed. Micky nodded and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Just in case the nights get _hot_," he sniggered. I raised an eyebrow, but decided to let it go. In the past, I'd come to expect Micky to be off-the-wall with his comments. I liked it even though it sometimes got a little crazy.

"You are bizarre," I smirked. Micky crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue teasingly. He walked over to me and kissed my neck.

"You _know_ you love it," he whispered in my ear. I giggled.

WHAT WAS FREAKIN' WRONG WITH ME?! WHY WAS I GIGGLING SO MUCH?! IT WAS SO SHERMAN-TWINNISH! SERIOUSLY?! WHAT IN THE NAME OF PUDDING?!

"You _think_ I know I love it," I corrected him, purring slightly. Micky growled like a tiger and kissed me again. Davy cleared his throat.

"You two are _horrible_," he gagged.

"_You_ should talk," Mike chuckled. Davy blushed and stepped back slightly. I couldn't help but laugh. It was hysterical how much Mike controlled this guy.

"Hey, fellas," Peter called, "we should get going! The bus is gonna leave soon!"

Mike nodded and hauled my cart up to the register and had them ring up all my clothes. Micky grabbed my hand and pulled me out the doors. When we were over to one side, he pulled me to him and put his hands on my waist. He pressed his lips to mine and I "indulged in the moment," so-to-speak. We kissed for about four seconds before I heard noises behind me.

"Aw, c'mon!" Micky groaned. "Just five minutes alone with her! That's _all_ I ask! Five freakin' minutes!" I turned around to see Peter grinning teasingly, Mike wolf-whistling, and Davy hooting and making kissy noises. I tried to shoot them a nasty glare, but I ended up laughing heartily. "Mary, not you too!" Micky exclaimed exasperatedly.

"Sorry, Mick," I giggled. "But…" I had to pause for my laughter. "You just looked so funny!" Micky looked up to the sky with a "Why Me?" look on his face. I laughed and kissed his cheek. "Cheer up, huh?"

Micky shrugged, smiled sheepishly, and kicked a stray piece of gravel into the parking lot. He was blushing harshly like a little boy being told off by his mommy. He grinned at me with the same cuteness as a little kid asking for extra sprinkles on his hot fudge sundae: adorably shy.

I wrapped my hand around his until I could look down and not know whose fingers were whose. I squeezed a little and Micky squeezed back. Davy made a gagging noise, but Mike told him it was time to get packing. Peter shot me a wink before following Mike and Davy.

It was interesting, my relationship with Micky. Most of the time he was bizarre and off-the-wall, but sometimes, he was sweet and more adorable than a baby's smile. I nestled my head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around my waist. When we reached the bus, I looked at my reflection. The rash on my collar bone had completely disappeared…


	5. Letter From the Author

Dear Readers,

I hope you enjoyed this story. I had a lot of fun writing it. It began with the idea of having a Cinderella of the 60s. Originally, however, this story was not going to be a fan-fiction. It was just going to be about a girl (named Mary) who had the Cinderella problem. The Monkees were not originally the "princes." An original group called The Tigers was going to be the mock-up band: a combination of The Monkees and The Beatles. When creating the character of the lead singer that Mary was going to fall in love with, I found that his name was going to be Micky. It was too hard to go back and change everything, so I changed it around to a fan-fiction.

With all due respect,

Comickazi13


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